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A spring and summer creating memories…

A few days ago, I updated my Facebook status describing how I found some old binders, notebooks, and folders with some writing and thoughts I had when I was finishing college, and learning how to move towards a goal of being a responsible adult. Now, over a decade later, I still can’t say I have figured out the adult thing, but I can say I’ve made progress.

I can admit I’m a bit of a pack rat. In some cases, I keep things because of sentimental value; maybe they remind me of an event, or maybe they just are things I believe I will eventually use. I tend to remember things vividly from years ago, and occasionally get a little too nostalgic due to that. So, if I have things that relate to a vivid memory, or signify a relationship of the past, I tend to keep it.

The other night, I came home from work and walked over to my overstuffed bookshelf. I thought I might have stashed some extra office/school supplies there that I could have taken to work to use for something. Instead, I started pulling out these binders, folders, and a notebook with a “title” written up on it in big sharpie handwriting. A part of me stared at disbelief as I had forgotten that I had stuffed these items away, intending to keep them for posterity.

I never found the supplies I thought I had. Instead, I found the 22/23 year old me, full of opinions, an awakening spirituality, and completely in love with writing. I found the imagination that I sometimes think has escaped from me as I’ve grown older, more mature, responsible. The kid part of me I strove to hold on to those years went down for a nap so long ago, and I wonder if she will ever wake up.

One of the notebooks was a journal a friend and I had kept my last summer at the job I had right out of college before the place went out of business. In the journal, my friend and I wrote about friendships (with coworkers and people we knew outside our little group), our philosophies and beliefs, poetry and short stories. Inside, I also used the notebook to detail out growing relationships I was making with people that, at the time, were consuming my world. In 2002, fresh out of college, optimistic that the world was at my feet, and boy, did I dream and want things bigger and grander than anything I ever did and got. Inside this one subject notebook, I poured out some of the biggest parts of who I was and what I wanted. Ironically, I also made promises and declarations in this notebook I later broke to myself. Ah, the mercurial me.

One of the best and worst parts of reading these materials this week was not the memory trip it conjured, but the realization that back then, so very few people knew me, or, for that matter, saw me. I have always been a bit of the quiet girl, keeping my feelings and emotions close. I can guarantee that some of the people closest to me in proximity knew nothing of what things I wrote, or believed, or hell, felt. The crushes, the falling in love, the intense spirituality building within me, centering me and giving me the confidence to believe, for once, I was okay. The knowledge that writing wasn’t just some hobby I liked to do on cold weather mornings, but an immense part of who I was as a person. And, the fact that writing brought to me so many connections to people so far away that matched my personality in ways I still can’t begin to explain to people. So many secrets back then. So much need for them.

Probably the best part of the trip down memory lane was the fact that I got to see my description of the beginning of one of the longest and fulfilling relationships of my adult life. Sure, living through that, I was aware of what I felt at the time, and what I personally saw, but writing it down for an audience outside of myself, I saw a bit of what I had forgotten about it. It was genuine, unintended, and fun. As it went, sometimes it hurt more than I could ever know things could hurt. But, it started as fun.

I need to get that back. That sort of fun. Ah, well…we shall see.

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Posted by on 11/08/2013 in blogging, writing

 

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Perfect summation of my thoughts…

To anyone reading, these are my words. Written years ago, but they are my words nonetheless. I have a writing blog I will be setting up shortly, but sometimes, a poem just begs to be posted.

 

Confrontation

(September 6th, 2004)

Has your exploration
and intricate dissection
taught you anything more about me?
Are my mysteries discovered,
the causes known, recovered?
Am I more known to you
as you are known to me?

Can you say my introspection
equaled your dissection?
Are my insides how they’re supposed to be?
Or, in further inquisition,
smiles turn to derision
as you find out what you’re not ready to see?

Am I the weak chattel,
the baby lost without a rattle?
The savior’s gone and abandoned me.
Are you one more masked invader
in clothes of a crusader
putting things back to how they used to be?

My soul’s laid out,
spread out,
fanned out
showing for all to see.

My world’s in doubt:
clouded, darkened,
shrouded.
I’ve been made blind to it all.

Can you see the disappointment
left underneath resentment?
Finally, I’ll show you what’s wrong with me.
Or with your two eyes seeing,
you’ve gone to leave me bleeding
to destroy all that’s left as me.

 

Sounds depressing, no? Back when I wrote this, I had just suffered an end to a very important relationship in my life. In the course of this relationship, I always felt as if I was doing everything wrong. I was insecure beyond belief. How dare I think someone could love me? Thoughts like that were drifting through my head as I emotionally navigated the month of September of 2004.

The same month, closure was given on another relationship I had. This was an ending to a friendship that soured mostly because of the same reasons the aforementioned relationship had. Topping that, I always felt, within this friendship, that I was under the scrutiny of someone psychoanalyzing me. It didn’t help that I had another friendship following the same course. Due to all of this, I wrote the above.

It was a figurative middle finger to the idea that something had to be wrong with me. I couldn’t be hurt. I couldn’t be sad. I couldn’t be weird. I had to have something emotionally and developmentally wrong with me.  Back then, I wrote a poem about once a day, so it wasn’t that surprising that I came up with this one.

Why it sums my thoughts: I am a single woman. No, I’m not pursuing relationships. This isn’t because I don’t want one. It isn’t because I’m not attracted to anyone. It’s not even fear. I have a lot going, personally, that I want to fix. I want to be out of the majority of my self-inflected debt. I want to achieve some personal goals. I want to just feel competent in some areas of my life before I add a relationship to the mix.

Often, I field the question as to why I don’t have a boyfriend. I usually say that I don’t want to deal with the drama of a relationship. I’m not lying. I don’t. Sure, I miss having someone to hold and hold me. Sure, I miss feeling that connection one can only feel as you’re falling in love. But, I also like not having to check in with someone. I like flirting with no consequences.

Most importantly, and something I think people should learn more often: I’m comfortable with myself. I’m okay with being alone. I’m okay not having someone else. I can be happy without needing a relationship. I don’t need to define myself in terms of a relationship.  And, honestly, people? There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with being single. So, stop pitying me for it. Stop implying that I’m somehow not a complete human being because I don’t have a man attached to me.

I’m okay. If I meet someone I might be interested in, my tune might change. But, I’m not going to run around looking for my other half as if it’s all that matters. Because, loving myself and being okay with me? That matters a hell of a lot more. I can ditch someone if I don’t like them. If I don’t like me? There’s only one choice to get away from that.

The most integral parts of human relationships are respect and trust. So, respect that I’m okay in life. And trust that I know myself well enough to say that I’m happy even if you think I wouldn’t be.

 

 
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Posted by on 07/14/2012 in Uncategorized

 

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